


Blushing Virgin Dean

by sinfuldesire_archivist



Category: Supernatural
Genre: During Canon, Humor, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2006-08-02
Updated: 2006-08-02
Packaged: 2018-09-03 08:48:08
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 9,153
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8705650
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sinfuldesire_archivist/pseuds/sinfuldesire_archivist
Summary: This fic, again, has no redeeming qualities whatsoever. It's not meant to be taken seriously. It's for fun, ie F.U.N. Follow up to Carpe Diem because the whole blushing virgin thing intrigued some people.





	

**Author's Note:**

> Note from the Sinful Desire archivists: this story was originally archived at [Sinful-Desire.org](http://fanlore.org/wiki/Sinful_Desire). To preserve the archive, we began importing its works to the AO3 as an Open Doors-approved project in November 2016. We e-mailed all creators about the move and posted announcements, but may not have reached everyone. If you are (or know) this creator, please contact us using the e-mail address on [Sinful Desire collection profile](http://archiveofourown.org/collections/sinfuldesire/profile).

**Title:** Blushing Virgin Dean  
 **Pairing:** Sam/Dean  
 **Rating:** NC-17  
 **Word Count:** 9100+  
 **Story Notes:** Follow up to [Carpe Diem](http://castalie.livejournal.com/451546.html#cutid1) because the whole blushing virgin thing intrigued some people.  
  
 

* * *

  
  
1\.   
  
"Oh, this is so _wrong_!"  
  
Dean slowly turned toward Sam, an incredulous _and_ murderous look on his face. How he accomplished that little trick was to anyone’s guess but Dean had always been very good at facial expressions. It wasn’t so much the words that fell out of his mouth that were important but the look on his face; it told you everything you needed to know about how he felt, if you only knew how to translate what you saw.  
  
And right this minute, it was easy for Sam to translate his brother’s mood. Dean was going to kill him. It was as simple as that. In this particular case, every instinct Sam had, every lesson he’d learned from his childhood, all told him to lay low and shut up.   
  
Sam being Sam, he did the exact opposite.   
  
"I think it's pretty funny, actually." At least he’d had the good grace to contain his laughter. Dean should be a bit grateful for that.  
  
But of course, he wasn't. "I bet you do, you jerk." Dean advanced on him and poked him in the chest with a finger. "You ruined me!"  
  
"I _what_?"  
  
"You heard me, man."  
  
"What’s the problem, Dean?" He jerked his head in a general direction that was supposed to encompass the desert around them. "The demon is back to where it belongs, those kids are safe. We won, the bad guys lost. End of story. "  
  
"This is _not_ the end of the story, Sammy. It’ll end when everything is back to normal. It’ll end," he said looking at Sam with a very determined look on his face, "when _I’m_ back to normal."  
  
Sam looked down at his brother and narrowed his eyes: Dean looked... different, yeah, he had to admit. Sam hadn’t had time to really _look_ at him right after the spell had been done, they had a demon’s ass to kick and innocents to save, but now that things were back to their quiet status, he could see that the spell was still going strong. Even stronger than he’d thought.  
  
Maybe something else was wrong, after all. He loomed over Dean for a second. "Christo."  
  
" _What_?!" Dean punched him on the shoulder. "What the fuck is wrong with you?"   
  
At least, Dean was still Dean, Sam thought. But he was definitely getting angrier by the minute. He raised his hands, an apologetic look on his face. "Sorry, I was just checking."  
  
"Just checking, huh?" Dean repeated incredulously. "I swear, Sam, I’m gonna-"  
  
But Sam didn’t let him finish. "I said I was sorry! And seriously, it’ll wear off, all right?"  
  
"It’ll wear off?" Dean looked around him as if taking invisible people as witnesses. "It’ll wear off, he says!" He turned his attention back to Sam. "When?" He poked him none too gently a second time.  
  
"How should I know?" Sam snapped, rubbing at his chest. He was getting annoyed, too. It wasn’t his fault the spell had zigged instead of zagged, anyway. "And it’s not as if it’s the end of the world, man. So you’re back to being a virgin and it’s lasting a little longer than planned, so what? It won’t last forever."  
  
Dean looked like he was ready to strangle him on the spot. "This was the stupidest idea you ever had."  
  
Sam couldn’t believe his ears. "Stupidest idea _I_ ever had? When did this become _my_ fucking idea?"  
  
"When it went wrong! You must have messed up the translation. Couldn't you pay attention?"  
  
"I did pay attention," Sam growled. "I did not mess up the translation." He didn’t accept criticism easily on a good day but when he _knew_ he hadn’t done anything wrong... "Know what?” he said, taking a step back. "Next time you can do it yourself, Dean. It's not as if you don't know Latin, anyway. You're just lazy and let me do all the work."  
  
Dean didn’t reply to that; just turned his back on his brother. He ran a hand through his hair and took a big breath – he was silent, his body taut.  
  
Sam frowned at the sight. Maybe he was underestimating the situation. He took a long stride and planted himself beside Dean, one hand cupping the back of his neck.  
  
He didn’t have time to ask anything though; at the contact, Dean took a step back as if he’d been burned. He had a startled look on his face; his eyes wide.  
  
Sam raised his hands again immediately, this time with the intent to show he didn’t mean any harm. "Hey, what’s wrong?" He stared at Dean, long and hard, and right there, he saw it again. This... he didn’t know what it was, but there _was_ something different with the way his brother looked.   
  
Dean scrubbed a hand over his face. "I feel weird," he said. "Like, I don't know..." He stared up. "Do I look different to you?"  
  
Sam stared back and his own eyes widened for a second when it dawned on him what it was that he was seeing. He suddenly relaxed; it was nothing. Nothing serious, at any rate. It was too good to be true though, and he just couldn’t resist. "Yeah, you do. I can see the innocence shining off you. It's hurting my eyes."  
  
As expected, it didn’t go too well. "You asshole. I'm telling you, there’s something wrong with me. Beside the whole virgin thing."  
  
Sam laughed. "I’m serious, Dean. You’re right, there’s something different about you but it has to be the spell, so nothing to worry about." He took Dean’s chin with one hand and moved his head right and left to examine him more thoroughly; he tightened his hold when Dean tried to wiggle out of it. "I can see it..." His voice trailed off and his eyes narrowed as he wondered about something. Without warning he bent forward and sniffed at his brother’s neck.  
  
"What the fuck, Sam?!" Dean shoved him.  
  
This time, Sam let Dean go without a fuss. He even had the good grace to look sorry. Not that he _felt_ sorry per se, and it wasn’t as if his smelling Dean was something out of the ordinary, but it wasn’t exactly the right time maybe. But still, he’d been curious. "It’s nothing. I was just, you know, checking."  
  
"Checking? Checking what? How virginal smells?"  
  
Sam had no idea what he’d tried to accomplish _exactly_ so he kept his mouth shut.  
  
"Look, you’re not hurt, right?" he asked.  
  
"Apart from my pride?" Dean asked back, his tone cutting like a knife.  
  
Sam managed not to roll his eyes. "Apart from that, yes."   
  
"Then, no, I’m not hurt," Dean conceded.  
  
"So you just have to be patient. It’ll wear off, it’s okay. "  
  
"Easy for you to say!" Dean turned his back on him again.  
  
"What’s the big deal, anyway?" Sam didn’t understand what the fuss was about. "Seriously, I’m asking. Don’t tell me it makes such a difference. You’re still you, right?"  
  
When Dean didn’t answer, Sam looked worried for a second. "Right?" he insisted.  
  
Dean let a frustrated sigh escape. "Yes, but no! I don’t know. I don’t feel right." A silence. "All my tricks are gone."  
  
Sam perked up at that. He didn’t need to be told what kind of tricks Dean was referring to. "What do you mean ‘gone’? And they are? All of them?"  
  
"Gone. As in, not here anymore. And yes, _all_ of them."  
  
This couldn’t be good.  
  
"Even the one with your tongue? You know, that thing you do when you suck me off."  
  
"I _said_ , they’re all gone. All of them."  
  
Sam couldn’t see Dean’s face but by his tone, he supposed Dean was glaring at him. Hard.   
  
"Man," he said.  
  
Dean turned back to him, an exasperated look on his face. "Now you get it, huh?"  
  
Sam kept silent for a moment. It wasn’t the time to act selfishly. So what if Dean’s tricks had disappeared. They were all coming back to him. He knew that.   
  
"Look, like I said, we just have to be patient."  
  
"Oh, so it’s a ‘we’ now, is it?" Dean said in a sarcastic tone.  
  
It was better to ignore him, so Sam did just that. "There’s nothing else we can do but wait." He had an epiphany, it was obviously time for them both to let off some steam. "In the meantime... "  
  
Dean peered at him suspiciously. "In the meantime?"  
  
"I know just the way to relax you." Sam didn’t even try to hide the predatory tone his voice has taken. It was like second nature to him, and besides, he knew what it always did to Dean.  
  
"Excuse me?"  
  
Sam blinked at his brother’s reaction. Okay, that was different. It certainly wasn’t the come back he’d expected. Dean’s voice was supposed to get husky, his whole demeanor eager. Not... suspicious, hesitant.  
  
"Dean, you’re wound up. You need to relax. Actually, we both need to. And you know how we can do that."  
  
Dean didn’t answer. He was staring at Sam with an almost unreadable look on his face, which was just typical. He was choosing _now_ to be inscrutable. Sam concentrated and tried to make out all the nuances on his face. It was confusing, all right.   
  
Sam could see that Dean did look interested, but certainly not eager. Much less wanton or slutty. More careful and suspicious. This wasn’t Dean at all.   
  
"It could be our chance, actually," Sam started, trying to sound convincing. He took a step toward Dean, closing the distance between them, and reached out a hand to him then cupped his face gently, maybe a bit unsettled himself by his brother’s skittishness. Dean didn’t move away this time but he wasn’t exactly leaning into the touch either.  
  
"Oh yeah, to what?" Though Dean’s behavior was shy and so unlike him, his words definitely sounded like the brother he knew, they had this razor edge tone that always set Sam’s alarm bells off.   
  
But Sam wasn’t ready to back off. It was clear Dean was taking this way too seriously, which was really ironic, considering. He was supposed to be the one who would want to take advantage of this new development. And here _Sam_ was, trying to cajole him into giving into him. Would wonders never cease?  
  
"So, a chance to _what_ exactly?" Dean asked again.  
  
Sam shook himself out of his reverie and focused back on the situation at hand. "To try the whole blushing virgin scenario. Does it ring a bell?"  
  
"It does, yes," Dean was speaking slowly as if talking to someone with low intelligence, which was starting to grate on Sam’s nerves already. Dean in bitchy mode was usually a sight to behold, but it was also dangerous when you were the recipient, "but you're missing the point. Our little role playing game was supposed to be just that, a game. I was supposed to _pretend_ to be a virgin. Not _be_ one."  
  
"Yes, well, I’m not complaining, Dean." Sam looked his brother up and down. "I’m not kidding, this new look of yours? Definitely attractive. And hey," he said cheerfully, "you won't even have to pretend, then! It'll come naturally to you. All the more reason to do it now." Sam smiled a pretty wolfish smile.  
  
"Do it?"  
  
"Yeah, well, do _you_ , I guess."  
  
Dean all but gasped. "You're serious!"  
  
"Sure I am. Like I said, you do look a bit different and it’s hot, you know? Must be the whole unpopped cherry thing." He licked his lips. "Can’t wait to help you with that."  
  
At Sam’s words, something incredible happened with Dean. Sam’s eyes widened at the sight. "Holy shit, man!"  
  
"What now?"  
  
"You blushed!" Sam couldn’t help the wonder in his voice.  
  
"What?" Dean didn’t care about ‘wonder’ though. That was indignation at its finest. "I did not."  
  
"Oh yeah, you did."  
  
"Well, maybe if you didn't say stuff like that, I wouldn't." And now he sounded petulant and outraged. The night wasn’t getting any better.  
  
"Say stuff like what?" Sam asked, trying to understand when and where he’d lost control of the situation exactly.  
  
Dean suddenly stared at him with a horrified look on his face. "Oh _God_."  
  
"What?" Sam was worried now. "Dean, _what_?"  
  
"I'm not just back to being a virgin," Dean said, his voice full of dread, "I'm like THE virgin, the blushing coy virgin. Oh God, kill me now."  
  
"This is ridiculous!"  
  
"Oh, you think so?" Dean spread his arms wide. "This isn’t me. This isn’t me at all, virgin or not, get that?"  
  
"How do you know that?"  
  
The look Dean gave him made him feel like five. Sam clenched his fists in order not to strangle his brother. "I know that you know yourself, thanks! But this is still ridiculous. You’re the same virgin you were, all right? This was the spell. To..." he tried to find a good word for it and failed, “re-virginify you. Not make you a different kind of virgin." Sam stopped and tried to tell himself it didn’t sound as crazy as he thought it did.  
  
"Dude," Dean said, and this was the Dean Sam knew; cocky to the core. Eminently annoying too. "I lost my virginity in a poor excuse for a motel room with a guy I’d just met in a club when I was sixteen because I wanted to see if I liked cock as much as I seemed to think and didn't want to wait, all right? Believe me, I wouldn't blush just because you want to pop my cherry." He blushed at his own words. " _God_ , I'm doing it again, aren't I?"  
  
"Yeah," Sam couldn’t help but laugh, though he was feeling warmer and warmer, "and I gotta tell you, the sight is getting to me. You're making me hard already."  
  
Dean’s eyes widened almost comically. Those were brand new expressions there. "I'm not!" He looked down toward Sam’s crotch and obviously didn’t miss the bulge in his brother's pants. "You perv!"  
  
This was too much for Sam. He burst into laughter. "Oh shit, you're killing me, Dean." He shook his head. "This is crazy."  
  
"It’s definitely more fucked-up than usual, I’ll give you that."  
  
"Come on, man," Sam chuckled. "It’s gonna be okay, all right? Why don’t we just take advantage of the situation?"  
  
"Take advantage of _me_ , you mean," Dean said, cringing. "I don’t know, it just feels... weird."  
  
"You’re blowing this out of proportions, is all," Sam said. "Which, yeah, is kinda weird because that’s supposed to be my line." He reached a hand. "Come here."  
  
Dean didn’t move for a moment. Sam didn’t say anything, didn’t try to influence him in any way. If Dean really felt that off, Sam didn’t want to force him. It _was_ fucked-up, Dean was never ever hesitant when it became to sex - too much experience, too much fun. Too few inhibitions – but if that was how it went, then that was how it went. It wasn’t supposed to be an ordeal, right?  
  
Finally, Dean seemed to come to an understanding with himself. He took Sam’s hand and stared at him with an earnest look on his face.  
  
Sam blinked.   
  
"What?" Dean asked, frowning. "Something wrong? I mean, more wrong?"  
  
"No. No, it’s just." Sam raised their entangled hands a little. "This. We never hold hands, Dean." Which wasn’t strictly true as they did sometimes, when one was buried balls deep in the other; they would sometimes entwine their fingers, holding tight, holding the other in place. But this was different.  
  
Dean thought about the situation. "I think it’s the blushing coy virgin in me. It wants to hold hands."  
  
Sam blinked again. "It," he said slowly, "wants to hold hands?"  
  
Dean shrugged. "Yeah. It’s, I don’t know, kinda safe. Some shit like that."  
  
"All right." Sam bit his lips for a second. "Dean, are you _talking_ to your inner blushing coy virgin?"  
  
Obviously, Dean didn’t miss the amused gleam in his eyes because he was back in snapping mode. "Fuck you, Sam! No, I’m not! And I don’t have an ‘inner blushing coy virgin’. The spell you fucked up turned me into an outer blushing coy virgin. And shit, this isn’t funny!"   
  
Sam couldn’t contain his laughter any longer, so he just let go and laughed again. "So you say! Dean, come on, man, do you listen to yourself?"  
  
"Do _you_ listen to me?"  
  
And the tone in Dean’s voice made Sam pay attention. He also realized Dean’s grip on his hand was tightening. Sam decided maybe he just needed to stop with the teasing – for a minute – and find out what was wrong. So. Dean was now a virgin to end all virgins and he wasn’t that eager to have sex with Sam even though he wanted to and –  
  
"Oh," was all he said, his eyes widening at the sudden revelation.  
  
"Do you get it now?"  
  
Sam smiled, but this time it wasn’t mocking at all. "You’re genuinely scared."  
  
"Nervous," Dean amended hurriedly, "I’m nervous."  
  
"Right, sorry. Nervous."  
  
"This is so stupid," Dean sighed.  
  
"Hey no, it’s not." Sam disentangled his hand from Dean’s and cupped his face. He always got a kick out of his big hands on either side of his brother’s head and it was even truer right now; what with Dean’s wide eyes and meek look. "We’ll just go slow."  
  
"I really can’t believe this is happening, you know?" But the tiniest smile was tugging at Dean’s lips, at last.  
  
Sam, finally feeling his brother relax against him, sensed it was safe to touch him now. He wrapped his arms around Dean’s waist, making sure to rest his hands on the small of Dean’s back and not his ass, like he was used to. Unthreatening touches were key right now.   
  
He bent his head and kissed Dean on the cheek, little kisses that were no more than butterfly touches. He tried not to press his pelvis against Dean’s body as he was sure his boner would scare Dean away – and his mind was still trying to grasp the concept of Dean afraid of an erection – but try as he might, Sam couldn’t control his arousal. This was just too hot for words. Who would have thought virginal Dean would be as enticing as slutty Dean?  
  
"I’ll be gentle." He was only half-teasing.  
  
Dean didn’t take it the wrong way though. He did gripe a little, of course, as he was still, well, _Dean_ , but he didn’t bite Sam’s head off. "I think I’ll be scarred for life." His action belied his words though as he tilted his head up a little to give better access to his brother. The gesture was maybe a bit hesitant, but its meaning was still clear.  
  
Sam smiled at the sight. Kisses were good, apparently. Safe, he supposed was the word Dean was thinking about. He decided to up the ante just a little.   
  
He brushed his lips against Dean’s, not trying to open them, merely waiting to see what Dean was going to do. For a moment he didn’t do anything, just brushed his own lips against Sam’s, not trying to deepen it. Then Sam felt Dean relax a little more and that’s when he knew he could go a little further.  
  
Sam slid his tongue between Dean’s lips, opening them slowly. Dean complied; his body was trembling, but Sam was sure it was more from anticipation than fear. He started kissing Dean properly now. Slow and lazy. He didn’t try anything else, didn’t turn the kiss into anything more. It wasn’t messy, it wasn’t noisy, it was certainly not dirty. Sam was loving it. It was like a new experience somehow. Dean’s hesitancy was unheard of. Nothing like his usual self and it was fun. Different. Exciting.  
  
"You like that, Dean?" Sam whispered.   
  
Dean just nodded. His eyes were closed and he was clearly enjoying himself. There was no trace of the tension he’d shown earlier. Sam didn’t want him to stress again so he kept his touch light but he did get a little bolder. One of his hands slid under Dean’s shirt, slowly so as not to spook him, ghosting over the skin first.   
  
When Dean didn’t react negatively to the new move, Sam began stroking the small of his back a little more insistently. It was smooth, warm. It had always been one of Sam’s favorite body parts – the curve of it, the softness of it. And, then, of course when you trailed a path down, with your hands or with your mouth or tongue, it led you to another part of the body that was favored by Sam.  
  
It wasn’t the right moment to venture to Dean’s ass though. Not right _now_. Even though Sam hoped it wouldn’t take too long because he was certainly getting harder by the minute. On the other hand, the ‘cock torture’, as Dean annoyingly referred to it, was part of the game and Sam was enjoying himself tremendously. He smiled – he was definitely getting into the whole slow business.  
  
His smile widened as Dean moaned in earnest now, arching up a little against him. Apparently he was getting into it too.  
  
"You’re still responsive, that’s something to be grateful for, huh?" Sam said, now running his hands up and down Dean’s spine.  
  
"It’s so weird, man," Dean breathed, his hands clenched tight on Sam’s own shirt. "It’s like I can remember how it all works, but I can’t remember how to do it. As if everything I’ve ever done was just part of a movie I’ve seen, you know? Not something I actually experienced. It’s really gone."   
  
"Temporarily," Sam reminded him.  
  
"Yeah."  
  
Unwilling to lose the mood, Sam used one of his paws of a hand – another of Dean’s lovely descriptions – to cup his brother’s face before kissing him again, the other still a heavy weight on Dean’s skin.  
  
Standing up in the middle of nowhere kissing Dean was quite erotic, but it wasn’t exactly practical and Sam still had enough blood irrigating his upstairs brain to realize that. He didn’t feel like breaking the contact with his brother but it was time to do something. Slowly, still touching Dean, he marched him in the direction of the Impala.  
  
The car was close enough that the little walk didn’t distract them too much. Dean was apparently in a world of his own, anyway, as he experienced his first making out session. There were no words to express how it turned Sam on to think of being Dean’s first. Sorta. He didn’t even know whether they would go all the way, but he was enjoying himself in the meantime.  
  
When he felt Dean’s legs meet the bumper, Sam stopped them both and starting trailing kisses along Dean’s jaw, on his neck, biting his earlobes gently. Dean groaned.  
  
"Damn, this is unbelievable." His voice sounded dreamy. He certainly had a dreamy look on his face, Sam thought.  
  
"How does it feel?"   
  
"New," was the quick reply. "Odd. But fucking hot, yeah. Just," another moan as Sam bit him softly on an earlobe then blew on it, "different but one hell of a good different."   
  
"Different is good, then," Sam whispered against his brother’s heating skin. Dean was rocking his hips so very gently against Sam’s and it made him smile as he wasn’t even certain Dean realized what he was doing.  
  
Sam continued the kisses, on Dean’s face, his neck, coming back to his lips, all the while stroking him under his shirt. He never tried to open his zipper, he just moved a hand between Dean’s legs, and touched his denim-clad cock once before pulling his hand away as Dean startled at the touch.   
  
Dean shook his head. "Man, this is going to take _forever_ if I can’t even handle your hand on my dick."  
  
"It’ll be a first for us, that’s for sure, taking our time," Sam said in a low voice.   
  
"Talk about a first."  
  
"Kinda makes me hot," Sam admitted.   
  
"I bet it does. You don’t care about blue balls. You enjoy it, you freak."  
  
Sam chuckled at that. "Like you always say, I love to torture myself." He shrugged.  
  
"I’m not sure I’d enjoy it though," Dean said. "It just drives me crazy. I’m hard but I’m not sure I want to go ahead with it."  
  
Sam chose not to point out to Dean that he was still rubbing ever so softly against him. Obviously Dean’s mind might have a problem with fucking but his body was okay with it. Sam supposed it was his job to reconcile the two. Or make Dean see that the whole situation wasn’t such a big deal.   
  
"You know, I was kidding about..." did he dare say it?"…deflowering you." He did. "We can wait ‘til you’re really pretending."  
  
"You did not just use the word ‘deflower’ in my presence, Sammy, I know you didn’t do that."  
  
"I wouldn’t dare."  
  
"Not if you want to have sex with me, that’s for sure."  
  
Sam laughed. "How charming of you, sex blackmail, that’s new."  
  
Dean looked like he wasn’t happy with his own threat. "It’s the stupid spell."  
  
"Right."  
  
"No, seriously," He stared up at Sam. "Look. We need to concentrate."  
  
"Concentrate?"   
  
"We’re losing sight of what we want. Hot virgin sex," Dean tried, his face blushing again.  
  
Sam’s eyes narrowed at the picture Dean made. "Oh, believe me, I’m not losing sight of anything. And I’m not losing my hard on either if it makes you feel better." He briefly but firmly pushed his pelvis against Dean’s to illustrate his words.  
  
Dean bit his lower lip at Sam’s move. "I can see that."  
  
"Don’t think of anything, okay?" It was time to get the show on the road. "Just let me drive. You always enjoy the ride."  
  
Dean’s eyes fluttered at the predatory tone in his brother’s voice. "Sam," he whispered.   
  
Sam covered Dean’s mouth with his own and made the kiss just a little rougher than before. Still nothing like they were used to, it was still really slow. Then, still kissing Dean, he pushed his brother slowly forward so that Dean’s back was resting on the hood the car. He spread the legs gently and planted himself between them, his hips taking on a slow rocking rhythm against Dean’s crotch.   
  
If Dean’s erection had started disappearing just a minute ago, it was forgotten as Sam could definitely feel the cock hardening against his body. They both groaned at the friction.  
  
"God, Sam, this is so _good_ ," Dean breathed against Sam’s lips, his half-lidded eyes speaking of his arousal.  
  
"It sure is," Sam agreed, happy to see Dean really getting with the program now. He ran a hand from Dean’s hips to his cock and rubbed slowly, almost lazily but insistently. It was hot and hard against his hand. He decided to up the ante and instead of just rubbing lightly, he pressed against Dean’s cock. Not roughly, just harder.  
  
Dean’s reaction didn’t disappoint; he arched up against Sam, head thrown back and neck taut. He was biting his lips as if trying not to cry out.  
  
Sam’s eyes dilated at the erotic sight. "Fucking shit, Dean. What you do to me." He couldn’t not kiss those lips. He shifted his hands, gripping Dean’s thighs, and bent forward to take the inviting mouth. This time he didn’t ask, only demanded entry and Dean complied swiftly.   
  
They drew apart, but Sam kept thrusting softly between Dean’s legs. It was driving him insane, but it was pure ecstasy.  
  
He was thinking of maybe going a little further but he didn’t know how Dean would react. Still, better to ask when Dean was putty and pliant in his hands. Maybe he wouldn’t have time to get nervous again. "Do you think you'd be ready to do it here? I'm not sure I want to wait 'til we're back at the motel."  
  
"Here?"   
  
Oh, this was so not a squeak coming out of Dean’s mouth. He shook his head and decided to let it go. He had to focus on the meaning behind the word. "Yeah. Why?"  
  
Dean didn’t say anything.   
  
Sam looked down at him, trying to read him again. Then it dawned on him. "Oh, let me guess. It would be 'unseemly' to fuck you on the hood of your car, is that it?"  
  
"Hell, yes!" Dean finally said. Though the good sign was that he wasn’t trying to push Sam away or move from his position. "What? Do you think I'm so cheap that I would let you do me here for my first time? In the open? Where everyone can see us?"  
  
Dean was back in full virgin channeling mode now, apparently.   
  
Sam tried to reason him. "It's the middle of the desert, Dean."  
  
"I don't care."  
  
"Man." Sam shook his head. "I put my fingers up your ass and made you come in a club not two weeks ago and you fucking _loved_ it, people were watching us the whole time and when they applauded you practically bowed to them. I bet if they'd asked for an encore you would have let me fuck you right there on the dance floor. You love being watched. You love _everything_." He definitely needed to adjust himself to the new situation at hand. "This _is_ weird," he concluded.  
  
Dean hunched his shoulder in a self-conscious shrug. "It certainly is. This is different. You're not doing anything to me if we're not in a real room. On a real bed. Where there's only the two of us."  
  
"You _are_ serious."  
  
"Damn straight." And this time, Sam heard in his brother’s tone that he was enjoying this. Enjoying make Sam _work_ at it.  
  
"Maybe it's not your punishment," Sam said. "Maybe it's mine."  
  
"Well, I'm sure you deserve it."  
  
Sam put his hands on either side of Dean’s face, looming over him. "What for?"  
  
"I don't know, it's not even the point."  
  
"I wish the spell had made you mute," Sam sighed. And then proceeded to do just that as he plunged his tongue into Dean’s mouth. He didn’t make the punishing kiss last though and he quickly softened it so that Dean wouldn’t feel overwhelmed by his aggressiveness – he used the term loosely - but it felt good just letting go for a moment.   
  
But Dean didn’t look like he minded, Sam thought as he pulled away and gazed down at him. He was back to blushing though, his eyes wide and his lips moist. He made quite an enticing picture.   
  
Sam watched as Dean reached a hand to his mouth, brushing hesitant fingers over his lips, as if trying to understand what had happened.   
  
"Dean," Sam moaned against his face. They needed to leave. Now. "Let’s go, man. We’ll get you in a real room, on a real bed." Sam stood up but not before indulging himself in a quick peck on Dean’s cheek, something he wouldn’t have done under normal circumstances. After all, he didn’t see why he couldn’t try something new himself – and Dean just looked too... well, adorable made him cringe even inside the privacy of his own mind, but it was kinda close to the truth. There was nothing of the cocky, teasing, slutty Dean he was used to and, hey, Dean did look cute in his spell-went-wrong induced virginal innocence.   
  
2\.   
  
The drive was quite uneventful. If you consider Dean keeping his mouth shut and his eyes on the road, concentrating as if he’d never driven before, uneventful – for a moment, Sam had worried that somehow the spell had _completely_ fucked Dean up but then he realized he was just being overdramatic. The look Dean had given him when Sam had suggested maybe he could drive had been enough to convince him that everything was fine with Dean. Except for the obvious.   
  
Dean’s uncharacteristic silence and concentration had everything to do with their impending arrival at the motel room, Sam guessed.   
  
"Hey, try to breathe, maybe?" His tone was teasing, he didn’t want to upset his brother. Or piss him off.  
  
He smiled when he heard Dean follow his instructions.  
  
"I should have let you, you know, back there," Dean said, "at least I wouldn’t have time to freak out again."  
  
Sam tried not to laugh, it wasn’t the smart thing to do right now but the ‘you know’ part was a bit too funny. "Come on, man, if you can’t say it, it’s gonna be hard to do it. No pun intended, I promise."  
  
Dean didn’t even spare a glance in his direction, which only made Sam laugh harder.  
  
"Talk about moral support." He heard Dean grumble.  
  
"Sorry, man. It’s just – it’s a bit too much, okay? It’s a side of you I’ve never seen, let alone even _imagined_. Just let me enjoy it a little."  
  
"Happy to be of service," Dean hissed. "Bitch."  
  
The laughter on Dean’s right side only got louder. After a moment, Sam tried to calm himself; he shook his head – at himself or the situation or Dean, he didn’t even know – and peeked at his brother. He was relieved to see that Dean was smiling a little. This wasn’t so bad, after all. He reached a hand toward Dean’s thigh and squeezed. The touch didn’t linger but it had been there and that was good enough.   
  
When they finally came in sight of the motel room, they both sighed in relief. The waiting was over. They got out of the car and hurried to the room.  
  
Once inside, they took their jackets and shoes off and Dean turned to him, an expectant look on his face.   
  
"Now what?"  
  
Sam smiled again. God, sometimes it felt as if he’d stopped smiling for a long time and had just re-discovered the whole concept of it. It did feel good though, he wasn’t complaining.  
  
"Now," Sam said, taking a step toward his brother, "we relax, we make each other feel good. You still know the drill, anyway, right?"  
  
"Yeah. Sorta. It’s just weird, I told you."  
  
Sam nodded. "Tell me about it. But it’s okay." His hands curved around the nape of Dean’s neck, pulling him into a soft kiss. "Let me do all the work," he said between kisses, his breath warm against Dean’s lips.  
  
Dean didn’t show any resistance this time. He only leaned into the touch, into the kisses. "You’re such a control freak," he couldn’t help saying, but it was just a whisper.   
  
"And you love it," Sam whispered back. "Now shut up."   
  
They kissed for a long time, touching each other lightly. Dean was relaxing with each new caress, leaning into Sam’s hands, responding to his touch. He was also doing some slow, albeit hesitant exploration of his own; and he was enjoying himself in the process, if his little moans were any indication. It convinced Sam that Dean was getting into this like he was supposed to and it gave him a thrill.  
  
They were both hard; it hadn’t taken long to find the mood again. It didn’t surprise Sam, though, they were always good together. Even if Dean’s mind didn’t remember it all, his body sure did. He rocked his hips against Dean’s, smiling when Dean mimicked the move. It was getting hotter by the minute.  
  
Sam came closer, their two bodies in full contact now, although still clothed. Still, the friction was definitely there and it felt really good; like a little sneak peek of what was going to happen later.  
  
One of Sam’s hands ran between Dean’s legs, touching him there. Dean was either too distracted to realize the new development – or too aroused to really care. In any case, he didn’t shy away from the touch, so Sam took this opportunity to rub softly before palming his cock and pressing harder. Still no reaction from Dean apart from a gasp followed by a moan. Maybe Dean was just getting used to his touch.  
  
"You like that, huh?"  
  
"God, yes," Dean breathed. He thrust experimentally against Sam’s hands and moaned.   
  
Sam kissed him possessively. "Good."   
  
He rubbed and squeezed Dean’s cock through his jeans for a little while, and groaned as Dean’s fingers dug into his skin in return. "I want to see you naked, man, is that okay?" And as the words left his mouth, he felt a wave of pleasure crash through him. This was so fucking arousing! They usually never asked permission to do things to each other, the permission had been given implicitly a long time ago. They took and gave in equal measure and never felt the need to say the words. But to ask for Dean’s permission, to have to _ask_ him for what he wanted... that was exciting beyond words. He bit his lips and burrowed his head in the crook of Dean’s neck.  
  
"Yeah. Okay. Do it, Sam," Dean whispered.   
  
Sam started on Dean’s shirt; he let it slide over the broad shoulders and to the floor. He kissed Dean while he was doing it, whispering nonsense in his ear; Dean’s hands were running through Sam’s hair and over his back. He seemed to be more confident with touching, now. Then it was time to slide the tee-shirt over Dean’s head, which Sam did before trailing his lips along the smooth skin that had been revealed. He licked and mapped, unhurriedly. He enjoyed the shivers he could feel traveling through Dean’s body.  
  
Still stroking and kissing Dean, being stroked and kissed in return, Sam gently walked Dean backward to the bed, like he’d done earlier with the car. Dean sat on the mattress, then shifted to the middle of the bed so that Sam could join him.   
  
"Lift your hips," Sam instructed, his voice low and rough. His hands had already made fast work of the button and zipper.  
  
Dean only hesitated for a second before complying. Sam licked his lips as Dean’s long legs were bared for him. He playfully discarded the socks and all but crawled back over Dean’s displayed body. There was still one thing to take care of, the boxers.   
  
Before he stripped Dean’s off, though, he sat back on his heels, between Dean’s now opened legs, and took his own shirt off, stretching his back in the process. He threw the shirt away, his hair a mess. He didn’t want Dean to feel embarrassed for being completely naked before a fully clothed Sam. That was for when everything was back to normal, not just yet.   
  
Now naked from the waist up, kneeling up, Sam opened his pants and started pushing them down when Dean’s hands stopped him. He looked down at his brother.  
  
"What?" he asked.  
  
Dean bit his lips, his eyes burning through Sam. "I think I want to help you with that," he said in a low voice.  
  
Sam smiled. "Hey, be my guest." He bent forward, resting his upper body on his elbows and took Dean’s mouth in a hard kiss. He silently encouraged Dean as his brother was pushing his pants down, inch by inch. When Sam felt the material pass over his ass, he took over as Dean couldn’t reach past that. He made fast work of it, pulling his socks off and baring his feet in the process, and then plastered himself against Dean, his body heavy against the heated skin.   
  
His hands were gripping Dean’s hair tight, a habit he had and to which he never really paid attention, except he was making sure not to be too rough with Dean at the moment. From the moans and gasps coming from his brother, though, Sam was sure he wasn’t crossing any lines.  
  
He started thrusting against Dean, enjoying that Dean was thrusting back with the same enthusiasm. Their respective boxers were offering only meager protection now and they were getting closer and closer to the real thing.   
  
"Tell me you want more, Dean, come on," he demanded, brushing his lips over Dean’s, tracing a path from his mouth to his neck back to his ears. He licked and kissed and sucked the hot skin.   
  
"Yes," came the breathless answer. "Please, Sam."  
  
" _Yes_." Sam knelt up again and stripped Dean’s boxers, sliding them slowly down his hips, thighs and along the strong legs, enjoying the show. Dean arched up as he was displayed and moaned, making Sam’s heart beat faster.  
  
When he was completely naked, Dean sat up and, as best as he could, helped Sam get rid of his own underwear.   
  
Finally, they were both naked, their erections free of their confinement and Sam couldn’t resist; he shoved Dean on his back again and bent to lick the head of his brother’s cock. He smiled smugly at the reaction his move elicited.  
  
He stretched an arm under the pillow where he remembered a tube of lube had been placed the night before and put some on his fingers, coating his cock then Dean’s with it. He stroked the length in a lazy motion.  
  
"Shit, Sam," Dean said in a strangled voice. "I’m pretty sure I’ll come if you keep that up."   
  
Sam kissed a hip, before looming over Dean again, his pelvis aligning with Dean’s own. "And that would be a bad thing because...?" He thrust. Hard.  
  
Dean moaned and lifted his hips to meet Sam’s thrust. "Because we won’t ever fuck if we both come too soon."  
  
"Hmm, our little virgin is getting into the game now, is he?"  
  
A flicker of something Sam couldn’t identify appeared in Dean’s eyes and he kissed him again, apparently unable to resist tasting Dean’s lips tonight.   
  
They kept rocking for a moment. Dean’s hands were gripping the back of Sam’s thighs to give him more leverage, when he stilled.   
  
"Wait, wait!"  
  
Sam stopped immediately. Waiting. If Dean didn’t want this, after all, it was all right. It'd be definitely odd to hear him say 'no' but it'd be okay – and hey, as the night had previously established, there was a first time for everything.  
  
"Just. If I cry when I come? Promise to kill me?"  
  
Sam rolled his eyes. He should have known Dean would come up with some shit like that. But he answered seriously, almost solemnly. "Yes, Dean, I promise to put you out of your misery if you do."  
  
"Thanks, man, knew I could count on you."  
  
"Anytime."  
  
They exchanged some more lazy kisses and touches, licking at the skin they offered each other before Sam groaned and stopped his thrusting.  
  
"You’re right, I really need to fuck you now." But as he said the words, something made him frown.   
  
His reaction didn’t escape Dean’s notice. "What's wrong?"  
  
"Nothing," he coated his fingers with more lube and ran a hand along the cleft before entering first one digit then two. He wasn’t finger-fucking his brother as much as prepping him.  
  
"I don’t need that kind of preparation, man," Dean rasped, though he rocked against Sam’s fingers, his eyes fluttering at the sensation.  
  
"Is this the virgin speaking?"  
  
"I’d say it’s my ass speaking," Dean replied without missing a beat.  
  
"Shut up, Dean." Sam nuzzled his cheek. "Don’t you see? It feels like the first time we're..." he hesitated "...making love." That wasn’t even what he’d wanted to say. He’d tried to find the right words but had to settle with this.  
  
It did surprise Dean though.  
  
"What?"  
  
Sam pulled his fingers out of Dean’s ass. He kissed the inside of his thighs and Dean automatically spread his legs wider and bent his knees, cradling Sam.   
  
"Yeah, okay that’s not what I meant. But we usually just fuck. We don’t take our time. We don’t do this."  
  
"We're guys, Sam," Dean said.  
  
"Oh, and guys aren't allowed to take it slow?"  
  
"That’s just not how we do this, man. You’ve never complained."  
  
The mood was suddenly changing and Sam couldn’t do anything about it. He didn’t even know why; Dean was right, he’d never had a problem with what they did before, he’d never thought of wanting something else.   
  
Dean scrubbed a hand over his face and spread his arms out on either side of him, staring up at Sam with an intent look on his face.  
  
Sam narrowed his eyes at him; there was something different about Dean. Or maybe. He frowned. Or maybe what was different was that Dean’s whole demeanor was fully _Dean_.  
  
"What?" he asked, almost suspiciously.  
  
Dean shook his head. He almost looked a bit angry now. "You couldn’t let it rest, could you? Was it too hard to just enjoy it, is that it?"  
  
Sam hunched back over his brother, his eyes going wide as he got the confirmation he needed. "You bastard, you were – God, I don’t believe this! You were _you_ all along?"  
  
"And you said I couldn't ever pull off the whole blushing virgin thing even if I tried my hardest, huh?" But the words didn’t sound that happy.  
  
"You fucking bitch."  
  
"Yeah. I’m such a bitch because I wanted us to have some fun. Shoot me now, Sam." There was no mistaking the sarcasm in Dean’s voice.  
  
"That what you call ‘having fun’?"  
  
"Until then, yeah," Dean said slowly, sitting up. "Look, you wanted it, we both did. I just gave it to us." He shrugged as if it explained everything.   
  
"You’re such an ass," Sam hissed. "I can’t believe you played me."  
  
"I didn’t!" Then at Sam’s deadly glare, "Dude, chill, okay? We talked about this last week. You said it would be so much more fun if it happened to be the real thing. Obviously that wasn’t possible so I improvised."  
  
Sam shook his head and made to move from the bed.  
  
"You stay on this bed, Sam."  
  
"What? You want me to finish this joke?"  
  
Dean’s face closed up. "Who said it was a joke? You enjoyed it. I did too. End of story."  
  
Sam wanted to reply but then it dawned on him that if Dean had wanted to stop the charade, he’d had all the opportunities in the world to do so. But he hadn’t. Dean never ever did something he didn’t want to in bed, ergo he’d genuinely enjoyed his little role playing. And you could say what you wanted about Dean but he never did anything to hurt Sam. Piss him off and annoy the hell out of him? Yeah. Downright hurt him, no. End of story, indeed. So it didn’t have anything to do with poor Sam being made a fool of. It had everything to do with playing Sam so that they could both get their rocks off, though. He could live with that.   
  
"Damn. You’re really annoying, you know that?" Sam said, but his tone was teasing and Dean relaxed.  
  
"I’ve been told once or twice," he drawled.  
  
"I’ll bet." Sam reclaimed his side of the bed, lying on his side, head propped on an elbow. He looked down at his brother.   
  
"Now what?" Dean asked. "No fucking? You’re punishing us both because you can’t take a little joke? Which was meant as a birthday present, you know."  
  
Sam couldn’t stop the smile curving his lips. "It’s not my birthday."  
  
"Whatever."  
  
"I’m not going to forget this little prank of yours, just so you know."  
  
"Just put it on my tab, will you?"   
  
In response, Sam rolled over Dean and pinned him to the bed. He took advantage of Dean not even trying to defend himself to raise his brother’s hands over his head and hold them in place. Sam’s grip around Dean’s wrists was tight, punishing. They rubbed and humped against each other and neither of them was surprised when they hardened immediately. If you thought about it, the whole night had been one big, endless cock-teasing session.  
  
"You owe me, Dean. Big."  
  
"I know that. Which is why I’m letting you win this round, see?" Dean flexed his fingers in emphasis.  
  
"I’m gonna fuck you, long and slow. We’ll just pretend we’ll still playing our little game."  
  
Dean’s pupils dilated at his words. "Works for me."  
  
"Spread them," Sam ordered.  
  
"Is this how you’d talk to a virgin?" Dean teased, but he opened his legs to cradle Sam as he’d been doing earlier and Sam let go of his wrists.   
  
"I’m improvising," Sam shot back.  
  
Dean smiled and pulled him into a hard kiss. This one was nothing like the ones they’d shared earlier, it was all opened mouths and agile tongues. It was familiar. Sexy.  
  
Sam inserted the tip of his finger in Dean’s ass and decided that maybe he could just skip that part; long and slow was good, but he needed in now! He raised one of Dean’s thighs over his forearm to give himself better access and watched as his cock slowly disappeared into his brother’s body. Fuck, that was always so hot.  
  
When he was buried to the hilt, he shifted position, elbows on each side of Dean’s head, and started thrusting in a slow motion. Dean bent his knees again; he had better leverage that way. He tilted his hips, eyes open and never leaving Sam’s face. Dean’s hands pinched and stroked his back.  
  
Sam groaned at the new angle but didn’t change his pace. It was slow, almost lazy. It had nothing to do with need or urgency and Sam intended to enjoy it as long as was possible.  
  
For what felt like an eternity, it was just bodies sliding against each other, hands running over sweaty backs or legs, tongues tracing paths over heated skin, moans and gasps, moist and dirty kisses. It could have been the first time they’d had sex, for all the exploration they did, for all the time they seemed to take to touch and kiss and lick each other’s bodies.  
  
After a while, Dean started rocking against Sam; in perfect synch with his thrusts. Sam had to smile. Dean had let him choose the pace but he was indicating that it was time to move on.  
  
"I said you owed me," Sam breathed in his ears, nuzzling his sweaty face.  
  
"Yeah, and I think I’ve paid enough already."  
  
"I need to think about it." Sam changed the angle of his penetration and moved his hips in a circle for a moment before resuming the long strokes.  
  
"Shit," Dean hissed. He bit Sam’s shoulder. Hard.  
  
Sam cried out at the sharp pain. "Damn. If I come too soon, I swear I’ll leave you hanging."  
  
"We’ll see," Dean said, clenching his ass around Sam’s cock.  
  
Sam laughed at his brother’s tactics, but it was a breathless, frantic laugh. He was close. They both knew it. He pulled out of Dean, and before he gave Dean enough time to scream blue murder at him, he manhandled his brother, showing him what he wanted. Dean complied eagerly.  
  
In no time, Dean was on his hands and knees, Sam buried inside him once more.  
  
"This is more like it," Dean had the time to say before Sam started an erratic, punishing pace. Then it was only moans and groans between them. Harsh panting, quick breathing, rough touches. Flesh against flesh. They were in non-verbal communication mode right now and had only one goal; finally come after a night of waiting.   
  
Sam’s hand over Dean’s neck, heavy and warm on the sweaty skin, tightened as he felt his climax approaching. He knew Dean was jerking himself off in the same rapid rhythm Sam was using on him and the thought always got to him. He waited for Dean to come before he did so himself, though, as he always did. One of those possessive habits of his he couldn’t explain; it just was.   
  
When he felt, heard, smelled Dean coming, he bent over him, covering the taut back with his bigger frame, and finished himself in a couple of rough strokes. He came deep within Dean, his breathing harsh against his brother’s ear, adrenaline pumping.  
  
After a hundred years, he felt Dean move under him.  
  
"You’re heavy, man, how many times do I need to tell you?"  
  
"Bitch, bitch, bitch, you don’t know how to do anything else, do you?" Sam grumbled, drawing away from Dean’s body.  
  
"Shit."  
  
"Sensitive, Dean?"  
  
"I’ll fuck you into the mattress for a million years and you’ll tell me."  
  
"Sounds like fun," Sam smiled, knowing he’d just sealed his fate for their next fuck.   
  
Dean turned on his back and stretched. "Man, I feel you _everywhere_."  
  
"I gotta say the feeling is mutual."  
  
"Good."  
  
Sam watched for a moment as Dean stroked his chest and belly. "I know," he said, "we need a shower. We stink, blah, blah, blah."  
  
Dean’s eyes were dreamy. "Long, hot, steamy shower. Oh, yeah."   
  
That made Sam chuckle. He planted himself on his back, his arm touching Dean’s. Comfortable. Sated. "I’m not sure I want to move right now, though."  
  
"Yeah, I think I’m just gonna crash a little."  
  
"Why am I not surprised?"  
  
Dean rubbed his eyes. "Because you know me. Now shut up."   
  
Sam interrupted him though, as something had come back to him. "Wait a sec, Dean."  
  
"What?"  
  
"So you were faking, you big liar, but what about the glow? There was something weird going on. I saw it."  
  
Dean smiled lazily. "Oh yeah, that. Beats me too. But I think it was some residue of some kind. From the spell, you know?"  
  
Sam thought about it for a moment. "Yeah, I guess. Know what? I should have known you were playing me. I never mess up a translation."  
  
"Your ego is poking me, Sam, try to keep it in check, huh?"  
  
Sam playfully swatted Dean’s head. "What about the blushing thing, then?" he asked again, a teasing note in his voice.  
  
Dean groaned. "Oh man. Yeah, the blushing thing. Well ditto, it had to be the spell. That was embarrassing. But it came in handy so, not complaining. Too much."  
  
Sam chuckled. "Not complaining either. It was kinda hot."  
  
"I got that, yeah." Dean gazed sleepily at Sam. "Gotta do the crashing thing now." He closed his eyes, blindly grabbed the sheet and covered a bit of himself with it. Then promptly went to sleep. He was really good at that.  
  
Sam didn’t follow Dean to sleep yet. He was going to take a shower now, not wait for it. He would also make sure to leave enough hot water for Dean or he wouldn’t hear the end of it.   
  
He stood up and headed for the bathroom.  
  
Living a life of demon hunting was interesting but Sam sometimes thought that just being with Dean gave him enough excitement to last a lifetime. Not that he was complaining.   
  
Fin 


End file.
